


stay high

by lollirotten



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, One Shot, Pennywise the dancing clown, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, i dont know what else to tag, party girl, pennywise - Freeform, pennywise eats out, pennywise/reader - Freeform, semi-fluff i guess, smut for smut's sake, that tongue tho, tw: alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollirotten/pseuds/lollirotten
Summary: here i go again. reader had a bad break up and is self destructing. pennywise makes it better.





	stay high

You'd been broken up for three weeks now, but you were still an absolute fucking mess. It wasn't so bad except when you were like, awake, and cognizant, and conscious, so for the most part, you slept, and when you were awake, you were slamming down beers and shots or whatever you could get your hands on. Which really wasn't much, considering that Derry, Maine, wasn't a huge spot for finding anything intoxicating. The best high you'd had was riding your ex-boyfriend into the sunset, but now he was GONE and he wasn't coming back. You were hurt about the whole thing - especially the way it'd ended, with him calling you psychotic and you standing there with a knife in the doorway of your bedroom as he tried to collect his stuff. To go away. To go away with HER. 

You'd let the ash of your cigarette hit the grass and tightened your grip on the railing outside of the bar. It wasn't a very good bar, but it was a bar, and they didn't really mind if you smoked inside, and that was good. Because all you wanted to do was throw back and lose your mind. That was it. Lose it. Lose yourself. Lose your memories. Lose the feeling of the knife handle in your hands, lose the feeling of tears stinging your skin where he had smacked you. Lose the vision of him walking out the door. Walking out on you. Walking out on you forever. Fucking... asshole... 

You mumbled this under your breath as you did, looking out into the darkness that was downtown Derry, watching a few of the missing kid posters flying in the breeze. Missing kids. Missing boyfriend. You knew where he was, and that's what made your blood boil. Upstate. In HER bed. Fucker. God, how you almost wished you'd plunged that knife into his back as he'd left, let him know the pain you felt firsthand. A frown knitted on your lips as you thought this, and your focus came back in, looking across the street, wind whipping your hair. A single red balloon floated there, unmoving in the wind, and you almost felt like it was watching you. What a weird feeling.

You stared at the balloon for a few minutes, before you flicked your cigarette butt out into the gutter and turned around, heading back inside. That was that. As you walked in, a big whoop came from your mouth, along with the words, 'SHOT THIRTY', and the rest of the patrons cheered as well. A grin plastered over your lips, you quickly forgot all about the red balloon, and your ex boyfriend, and all your pain, floating in a sea of liquor and intoxication.

Your head was in the grass, and you retched into a bush as you did. Too much. Too much too fast. Tears stung your face as you gagged and drooled out the contents of the night onto foliage. God, you don't know how much you'd had, but your head was spinning. Someone was holding your hair back, but you hadn't the foggiest idea who. Still, it was a nice gesture, so you planned on thanking them when you finally got a hold of yourself. Part of your shirt was ripped at the bottom, so you just ripped the hanging bit off, rubbing and wiping at your face with it and blowing chunks out of your nose.

God it was disgusting. You were a fucking mess. Still, you felt better than you had before you'd gotten plastered, so there was that. There was always that. You fumbled in your pocket for your phone, trying to see what time it was. Were the bars closed? It greeted you with a black screen of death and you sighed. The hand that had been holding you hair back petting you slightly, and it reminded you that someone was there. 

"Sorry, I-I'm a f-fuuckin' mess..." You slurred. The hand came down, rubbing slightly against your cheek and you closed your eyes, leaning against it. It was soft, silky. A glove. They were wearing gloves. The fingers were long, and thin, and the hand itself was rather large. You inhaled deeply, and exhaled again. They still hadn't said anything. You drew yourself to your feet, stumbling and almost hitting the pavement again, but catching yourself on a fence. Where the hell were you? It didn't matter. You turned to look at your companion, and had you been more sober, you might have gasped in surprise. Or fear. Or anything.

"Whoa." Was all that came out of your mouth as you looked at the clown in front of you. Gray silk covered his body, aged and frilled, and you were eye level with the highest orange pom pom on his chest. He was tall, thought it wasn't like that was a real feat - being taller than you, that was. Still, you followed what appeared to be a string of drool falling from his red painted lips, up to his face, smile painted up, up, into bright yellow eyes. No - they were blue. You had mistaken them for yellow.

"Sorry, I.. uh.." You paused, head still swimming in intoxication. "Thanks." You finally said, gesturing to your hair. The clown gave a wide grin, sort of giving a dramatic bow to you. 

"Oh, don't worry about it, you've been having quite a time, hm? I thought I could help." He seemed to giggle, smile widening. "I don't mind to help a friend in need, at all." You looked at him, rubbing at your face still with the piece of shirt. A friend? Maybe it read on your face that you were confused, because the smile widened, somehow, and he produced a red balloon from behind him. A red balloon. Same as you'd seen before.

"Oh." You muttered, head pounding. You needed a cigarette. Some water. A rebound. You reached out to the clown, taking the balloon from his hands and giving him a bit of a smile. He seemed nice. Weird, but nice. "Thanks, umm.."

"Pennywise. I'm Pennywise, the Dancing Clown." He said, shaking at bit as he did, bells on his costume jingling. You chuckled a little bit in spite of yourself, fingers still curled around the balloon. "And you're Y/N, aren't you? You're the life of the party!" He giggled, and you felt your face flush. 

"I mean... I wouldn't say that..." You said, head spinning slower. You were slowly sobering up, and you hated it. "I.. need to get home. Thanks for the balloon, Pennywise. And for holding my hair back. And everything else." You said with a smile, intertwining the string of the balloon in your fingers so it didn't slip away. He nodded, but he looked a little sad.

"Would you like me to walk you home, Y/N?" He asked. "It's not safe out there for you by yourself." He grinned, and the grin sent a shiver up your spine. You shook your head, finally getting more of a grip on your surroundings. 

"No, but thank you... I just live down the street." You gestured, and he nodded again, waving you off. You waved goodbye, walking down the sidewalk and away from the clown, who had disappeared. You didn't look back.

\-------------------------------------------

Nestling into your bed, laying diagonally across the empty queen size, you sobbed gently into your pillow. You were sobered up, and cleaned up, having showered when you got home. Your sheets twisted around your body as you tossed and turned, not having bothered to get dressed. Your hair was wet, leaving a dampness in your pillow next to the spot where your tears were coming down. The red balloon floating precariously across the room, tied to your desk chair.

You looked over at it, sniffling and reaching down to the floor for your towel to wipe at your face. Exhaling harshly, and sniffling again, the smell of popcorn and caramel became apparent in the dark room. You lifted your head up and looked around, noticing finally that the balloon was gone, and instead, the clown from before sat in your chair, looking at you. You gasped.

"How.." you muttered, but he didn't answer. His eyes were glowing yellow. You only had a very vague recollection of your meeting with him earlier, but you did distinctly recall that he'd had the prettiest blue eyes. Now they were something else. Yellow, like sickness and fear, and you stared, hand still grasped around the towel. His lips parted and cracked into a smile.

"Hiya, Y/N." He said, voice pleasant and friendly, and it was almost as comforting as it was unnerving. You dropped the towel back down to the floor and sat up, pulling your sheet up to cover yourself. "I was worried about ya, thought I'd drop in!" He said. It felt like a lie, but it was a nice, pretty lie, and that was all you really wanted right now. Pretty lies. Drool was on his lips, glistening in the dim light, and it seemed to drip down onto the satin of his costume.

"Oh." You said, blinking for a moment, and in that moment, he moved from his seat and was standing in front of you, towering and looking down. You flinched as his hand came up, fingers under your chin and thumb going across your jaw line. You closed your eyes, so touch starved now that this felt amazing, sending a chill down your spine. His smile only widened at your shiver, and he leaned down, wet lips pressing against yours. You gasped, taken by surprise, but fell into kissing him back in seconds.

Your grip tightened on the sheet, straightening up to push your mouth back against his, drool and slobber making the kiss messy, and it only grew messier by the second. Some of it dripped down your chin and onto your chest, and soon you were lowering the sheet and groaning as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Thoughts swirled through your mind, mostly of confusion, but they were quickly becoming overpowered by the burning between your thighs. 

He pulled back, and you tried to move with him, not wanting the kiss to end, but his hand on your shoulder stopped you from moving. He was strong, inhumanly so, and he pushed you back onto the bed with a growl, pulling the sheet away and letting his hands wander down your body, caressing and squeezing at your breasts as your breath quickened. His hands gripped at your hips, pulling you down to the edge of the bed as he lowered himself, lips running along your thighs. Your breath hitched, back arching a bit as he did this, lips moving closer to your heated sex.

One of his hands slid against your slit, still gloved, the satin smooth and soft to the touch. His fingers traversed your pubic hair, before his thumb settled against your clit, rubbing in a soft, circular motion, drawing long, soft moans from you. You gasped when a finger slipped inside of you, pumping for a moment, before another joined, and then another. With each thrust and circled movement you groaned louder, your pussy growing wetter and wetter. You looked down at the clown between your thighs, gasping as you made eye contact for a few seconds.

He withdrew his fingers, lips pressing into you and replacing them with his tongue, the muscle feeling inhumanly long and thick, licking up your juices. Teeth teased against your clit before his fingers went to work on you, and you could feel pressure tingling at the base of your spine, your hips bucking against him involuntarily. His free hand moved up to the bottom of your stomach, pressing down and restricting your movements as he moved faster.

You bucked and your back arched as an orgasm rocked through you, groan turning into a cry of pleasure. He looked up at you, grin widening as he licked his lips, standing up and moving towards you, hand going around the back of your neck to pull you up into a deep kiss. Eyes closing as you tasted your own sex on his lips, you groaned, feeling his other hand moving down to his costume, freeing his cock from his pants. 

A gasp came from you as your eyes opened, looking down at his member - pale white like his face, which you had assumed was paint, with thin reddened veins and a bulbous head. It was large, bigger than most of the men you'd fucked in the past, and you looked up at Pennywise for a moment. His expression darkened as he moved closer, rubbing the tip against your slit. Any reservation you had was gone at that second, and he pushed inside of you.

You gasped, laying back instantly as he held your legs up on his shoulders, looking down at you, grunting and groaning as he slowly thrust into you, letting you adjust for only a moment before his pace quickened and he pushed further inside. You cried out loudly with each thrust, hips moving to his rhythm, your head leaning back and back arching. God, that felt impossibly good. Better than anything you'd had before. 

"There, there, that's the spot, hmm, baby girl?" He growled, the first he'd spoken since this started, his voice only adding fuel to the fire. You groaned out louder, nodding as he smacked and thrust into you. 

"Yes, fuck..." You moaned, gripping the sheets under you. He shifted your legs to one shoulder, twisting you just a bit and landing a smack against your ass, drawing a louder cry at the sting. You tightened around him at the pain, and it only made him do it again, and again, and again, until you had a very red spot in the shape of his hand on your skin. His thumb moving against your clit again, and soon, you were twitching and spasming through another orgasm. He grinned, watching you squirm under him, growling lowly.

The clown's hand reached up, tangling in your hair and pulling you up as he slipped out of you, other hand now stroking his length as he pressed it against your lips. You groaned, mouth opening as he pushed into your mouth. He leaned his head back, groaning as you started bobbing your head up and down on it. He gripped your hair, pushing it deeper into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat, tears threatening to well up from it.

He thrust into your mouth for only a moment, before pulling out and launching his seed all over your face, some of hitting your lips and mouth, some on your nose and some even dripping down your chest. You gasped, running your fingers against your skin and licking what you could off. It tasted like buttercream, but with a salty undertone, and you looked up at the clown with wide eyes as he leaned down and kissed you.

"What are you?" You choked out, and he only responded with a wide, manic grin. There was a pop, and he was gone, the balloon taking his place again, tied like before to the desk chair.


End file.
